burnt toast and liver
by Jonn Wood
Summary: Gabriel Grey, an insignificant watchmaker, in town on business. Yet Mister Grey is about to encounter a singular individual, a Dr. Lecter. And his experience with Lecter may change his life forever, as he sits down for a meal...


Midland, Texas, 2005

A large trucker opens the door of the Burnt Toast diner in Midland Texas and walks in. Just before it closes, a dark-haired young man slips through the door. He carries a satchel, and hurries to a seat near the door. He sits with his back to the window, and the waitress comes over.

"What'll ya have?"

The young man looks up shyly. "Just coffee, thanks." he mumbles, and the waitress-Hi My Name is Lynette-nods.

"Coffee, coming up," she says, and leaves.

Grey stares at his clasped hands for a few seconds before starting and adding "-and a menu!..." As he trailed off, he looked at his outstretched hand and sighed.

"Is this seat taken?"

Grey looks up. The man standing next to him is somewhat jowly, with eyes that seemed brown-or were they maroon? It was hard to tell; the light slanting through the windows and doors cast his face half in light, half in shadow, and for a moment Grey thought of mountain ranges, wild, and free.

"No, not really." he says, slowly. It was better than eating alone. Unless one of you was a serial killer, or something.

The older man slips into the seat, and sits there grinning at Gabriel in a slightly overfriendly way. The young man realizes his companion is missing an arm-

"Oh, it's quite all right to stare, everyone does it." says the older man. "It makes me feel special." He reaches across the table with his good hand. "Doctor Charles Darling."

Grey shakes it. Darling has a receding hairline, and an intense gaze. It makes him feel uncomfortable, this one-yard stare. "Gabriel Grey, watchmaker." Like some sort of parasite, under a microscope. "So, good doctor, what brings you to town?"

"Medical convention. I decided to drive through Odessa, and visit an old friend."

"Huh. What does he do for a living?"

"He's in paper."

Hi My Name Is Lynette arrives with the coffee, demanding to know who this handsome man was.

"I'm Dr. Darling, I'm just passing through down, and decided to stop at your wonderful little diner for a bite." he says, turning his charm up to eleven. Lynette was the target of his rich, baritone assault, and she falls like a house of cards.

"Well, aren't you just precious. I'll just get you and your friend here a menu," she purrs. Grey smiles behind his coffee cup as she leaves. "How do you do that?"

Darling gives him a look of supreme innocence. "Do what?"

"It's the accent." He was getting inordinately interested in a complete stranger's flirting with women. "Are you British?"

"Not exactly." He gives Grey that stare again. "You know, when I saw you, I thought; there's a very special young man."

"Really?"

"Oh yes." He steeples his fingers. "Out of curiousity, Gabriel, what do you know about wine?"

Was he hitting on him?

"Nothing, really."

"I'm partial to Chianti." Darling sighs. "Your turn, Gabriel. em Quid Pro Pro. /em "

"What?"

Darling gets a look of faint disgust on his face, but it passes quickly.

Lynette arrives with their menu, and flirts with darling some more. Grey is starting to notice a pattern; eye contact, innuendo, little tilts of the head. He suspects Darling is a lot better at this than he'll ever be. Lynette doesn't even seem to notice the missing arm.

Grey flips his menu open, and runs a finger down the page.

"The eggs look good. What do you think?"

"Too much cholesterol."

"You only live once, dear boy."

Grey looked up; Darling was smiling at him, and he was suddenly confused. This was something like a normal conversation, except for the creeping suspicion that the doctor was gay.

"My name is Gabriel J. Grey the third," he says, all in a rush. "A watchmaker and the son of watchmakers. I live in New York, and I'm only in this g-" mom wouldn't like him swearing "- em forsaken /em hole of a city to pick up a rare watch. I hate my life, I hate my job, I hate these stupid watches!"

Darling looks at him mildly.

"I was merely going to suggest the eggs Benedict."

Grey looks down at his menu. "Oh. Right."

There is an awkward silence. A red-haired girl walks in and approaches the counter. The pause is broken by the soft noise of Dr. Darling putting his menu down. He opens his bag, takes a cream-colored bottle out, and somehow manages to get the lotion into his hand without spilling a drop. He then starts to put the lotion on his skin.

"It's the heat," he says to Grey's curious gaze. "Dries it out." He finishes, and scans the menu again. "I think I shall have the pancakes, and a side of sausage." A raised hand is all it takes to bring Lynette scurrying.

"Pancakes, with sausages, and my young friend here will be having..."

"Eggs Benedict."

"Eggs Benedict. And a small water for me."

Grey watched Lynette leave.

"I hate Eggs Benedict."

"You really need to be more assertive."

Pause.

"I just want to do something different. Something special. I'm going to be fixing watches for the rest of my life."

Darling looks at him sidelong. "Try doing something with your hair. I hear spikes are popular. Maybe a hat. You said you live in New York; wear a little black."

"You think that'll help?"

Darling shrugs. "It's amazing what a little change can do."

Grey stares into his coffee.

"Do you believe in destiny?" he says slowly. "That we all have some sort of purpose, something to do?"

Silence. The clock ticks on. Tick tock, tick tock.

"I was asked that same question, a long time ago," Darling says thoughtfully. "I never found an answer." He looks at his watch. "Oh dear. I have to leave." He stands up, picks up his bag. "Give my regards to Lynette."

"Bye." He waits. Darling is still standing there.

"I believe you will do something remarkable, Gabriel. All you have to do is decide what."

He sweeps the hat onto his head and looks thoughtful. "Good day, Gabriel Grey."

Grey waves half-heartedly as he left. He stares into his cold coffee, and listens as Lynette's flats approached.

"Where'd he go?"

Grey looks up. She has her hand on her hip, and he feels a sudden surge of hate for her, a desire to rip off her head and take her brain. It's not like she's using it anyway.

"He left," he mumbles. The older woman bites her lip.

"Darn. I don't suppose you got his address?"


End file.
